


The Very Model

by neveralarch



Category: Doctor Who, Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Age of Sail, Gen, Pirates, this au is internally inconsistent and absurd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the tale of how Admiral Romana kept her job, how Rear-Admiral Braxiatel fought off the empire's enemies, how Leela of the Sevateem gained an audience with the Admirality, and how Captain Narvin was irritated by just about everyone. (A Gallifrey/Age of Sail fusion, where most of the characters are still Time Lords, even though that doesn't make much sense when they're on wooden ships.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Very Model

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hoshinekoyasha, for the Gallifreyathon on morepolitics! It is based on the prompt 'Pirates.' 
> 
> Thanks to the amazing aralias for the beta, and generally for running an awesome fic exchange which is always a pleasure to take part in.

Admiral Romanadvoratrelundar tapped her pen against the desk. It kept splattering ink against her papers in a rather displeasing way, but if she ruined the papers then she wouldn't have to sign them, which was all for the best.

"Is this really the only way?" she asked.

"If you want the Phaidon ships captured, we have to call in outside help," said Rear Admiral Braxiatel. "It was your own idea. The Navy's spread far too thin to chase after any sign of an enemy ship."

"I know that," said Romana. She tapped the pen some more. If she could get a few more flecks in the right places, she could make a cat. "But privateering's a dirty job, Brax."

"Then why not give it to those who are already covered in grime, Admiral?" asked Brax. "Just sign it, and we can begin."

Romana grimaced, but she signed the letter of marque which gave the bearer authorization to attack trade vessels. She threw sand on the paper to dry it (more forcefully than she need have done), shook the paper, and rolled it. Brax extended a hand.

"No," said Romana. "I want to meet this person we're giving so much authority to. I want to look in their eyes, and judge their character."

"Is that wise?" said Brax, raising an eyebrow. "Surely deeds such as this are better done at arm's length. Further, even."

"Perhaps," said Romana. "But this is important. Bring me the Dread Pirate Leela."

Brax nodded. "I shall send a courier at once."

\---

Captain Narvin hated this job. Any of the Navy’s work was for the glory of the empire, yes, of course, but at least the work could be _productive_. Narvin had scoured the coast of all three continents, and still there was no sign of the Dread Pirate Leela. Either she hadn't bothered to put in for land, or she had killed anyone who might rat her out to the Navy. Narvin suspected both might be true.

"How long have we been out here?" he asked Lieutenant Torvald.

"About a month, sir," said Torvald. He had a spyglass to his eye, surveying the surrounding water. There wasn't anything out there, as far as Narvin could tell, but he appreciated the dash of paranoia.

"And we've nothing to show for it," muttered Narvin.

"How long before we give up?" asked Torvald. He closed the spyglass with a careful snap.

"Never," said Narvin. "I'd be back to the fleet like a shot if I thought our Lady Admiral would let us return, but I think she'd view that as mutiny. I'd rather not give Admiral Romana an excuse to have me hanged, if it’s all the same to you."

Torvald shrugged, smiling. Narvin often suspected the man of having a rather cavalier view of his own mortality, but it was a view which Narvin did not share.

"No," said Narvin. "I'm meant to deliver this summons, and I shall, if we sail until our water casks run dry and scurvy takes the crew."

"Shouldn't say that too loudly," said Torvald. He was still smiling grimly. Not as grim as death, quite, but grim as a sucking belly-wound or a reprimand from the Lady Admiral. "You'll have the whole crew up against you, if they think their lives depend upon it."

"It may come to that," said Narvin. He tapped his foot against the deck, and straightened his hat. "But we'll find the pirate savage eventually. Run some exercises to keep the crew busy, why don't you?"

Torvald nodded and strode away. Narvin stood gazing out to sea for a long time, as he had little better to do.

If the world had any sense of narrative at all, that would have been the best time to produce the long-sought-after pirates. When the crew was busy at their drills, and only Captain Narvin was still staring out to sea.

The waters remained blank, and Narvin crossed the decks to look the other way.

Or perhaps it would be time for a mutiny, with the sailors stirred into angry rebellion by a treacherous and conniving Torvald. Lieutenant Torvald certainly had it in him to turn mutineer or pirate, thought Narvin, if he felt it was in his interests.

But there were no cries of fire and murder, no rushing from the decks. The ship cut easily through the waves, propelled by the light breeze.

No, thought Narvin, the universe was not controlled by the laws of good story-telling. It had been a month, and he had no idea where they should be going. He was headed to the south coast of the Phaidon territory on nothing but a whim. If Narvin was lucky, he might find the pirates in another month, while he still had money and promises enough to buy supplies. But that would be the very height of his fortunes.

Narvin shook his head at the sea and turned again, to the port side.

And there it was – a sail. A black sail, with white marking too distant to be seen, but Narvin knew what it was.

"A ship!" he shouted, and one of the crew took the call up.

"A ship! Pirates!"

"Get Lieutenant Torvald!" ordered Narvin. "All hands on deck, hop to it!"

It would probably be another pirate all together, but the hope was rising, rough and warm in Narvin's throat. Another hour or two, long enough and close enough to see the markings on the ship, and they would know.

He hoped that the world had regained its sense of narrative at last.

\---

Braxiatel was going through the ship’s logs when Vice-Admiral Darkel arrived on his deck. He turned the pages slowly, ignoring her presence.

"How are you, Braxiatel?" Darkel interposed her gloved fingers between the book and his eyes. Braxiatel looked up, reluctantly.

"I could be better," said Braxiatel. "And yourself?"

"Excellent," declared Darkel. "Have you seen Romana lately?"

"The Lady Admiral is on the van's flagship," said Braxiatel. "I suggest you go there if you wish to meet her."

"She refuses to see me," said Darkel. Her lips turned down into an overwrought moue. "She keeps sending some Midshipman to give me her orders, and won't let me meet for clarification."

"The Lady Admiral is very busy," said Braxiatel. He looked back down at the logs, reading between Darkel's fingers. The fleet was drifting north, now, and they needed to decide soon whether to set sail for the war or try to find somewhere to anchor.

Darkel snatched the book away.

" _Rear_ Admiral Braxiatel," she said, "I would remind you that you are my subordinate and, as such, I do not appreciate the amount of time that you spend with the Admiral when my petitions are refused."

"Perhaps the Admiral worries you'll poison her," observed Braxiatel, mildly. “Metaphorically, of course. She has a delicate set of sensibilities.”

Darkel laughed, short and sharp. It was not a reassuring laugh. "Next time you are summoned to the van's flagship, you will tell me," she said, "and I will accompany you. Is that understood?"

"Clearly," said Braxiatel. He held out his hand, and Darkel returned the log before leaving the cabin. Braxiatel stroked the book, calming it like a frightened cat.

He understood why Darkel had been made Vice Admiral, second to none but Romana. Quite apart from questions of seniority, everyone had thought it better to have her commanding the fore of the fleet, in front of Romana and Braxiatel, rather than at their backs. But it rankled, all the same.

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter," said Braxiatel. He set the log to one side.

"Sir," said Midshipman Nighn, Romana’s most trusted junior officer. He closed the door carefully behind him. "The Lady Admiral sends her respects, and wishes you to join her for dinner."

"Alas, I cannot," said Braxiatel. "Send my deepest regrets."

Midshipman Nighn blinked. His hands were still clasped behind his back, and his expression showed no sign that he had marked Braxiatel's words. He had a rather mechanical face, reflected Braxiatel. Gray and blank, with a long nose and big ears.

"The Lady Admiral requests your presence," repeated Nighn.

"Take a message," said Braxiatel. "I cannot attend, lest I bring unwanted guests along with me. She will have to tell you what she wants me to know, and we will communicate in that way."

Nighn nodded, and Braxiatel waved him out.

"And ask her when we're moving!" called Braxiatel, after him. "We cannot drift here forever!" The door shut.

“I’m afraid Darkel is getting restless,” muttered Braxiatel, to himself.

\---

The pirate flag was a skull with a knife in its teeth, the mark of Dread Pirate Leela. Narvin had been briefly pleased, just before the other ship began firing on them. That has rather tempered any pleasure he might have felt.

Around his ship, the water frothed as cannonballs dropped around the bow, finding their range.

"Prepare to fire the broadside!" shouted Narvin. He didn't want to destroy the pirates he had come to negotiate with, but he'd also prefer it if they didn't sink his ship.

The crew rolled the cannons back, preparing them with grease and gunpowder before letting the balls roll down the muzzles. Lieutenant Torvald stood with his arm raised, waiting for his captain's order.

"Fire," said Narvin.

"Fire!" shouted Torvald.

The ship rocked with the explosions, and then rocked again as a pirate's cannonball skidded through the rail and over the deck. A man screamed, and Narvin gritted his teeth.

He would not let them win, come hell or high water. He was an officer of the Lady Admiral, whatever he might think of her politics and command, and any person on this ship was worth fifteen lawless savages.

A cannonball struck the underside of Narvin’s ship, and they began to take on water.

Narvin's conviction began to waver. They weren't a fighting sloop, weren't rigged out for this, didn't stand a chance-

Narvin screamed for someone to bail.

\---

Leela looked around her prize, and bared her teeth in a grin. A ship of the Gallifreyan Navy was worth much, both in the prestige it carried and in the ransom of its crew. She hoped she could repair it, and make her fleet larger.

Currently her fleet was two ships and the other ship was at harbor, but more than one ship was still a fleet, as far as Leela was concerned. Three ships would be a formidable fleet indeed.

Scuffles were still breaking out between the captured crew and Leela's pirates. Most were small and easily dealt with, but Leela could hear shouts and a few screams from the fo'c'sle. She drew her knife and strode over.

A wiry man with small eyes and a rich uniform was standing back to back with a tall and muscular man with a slightly poorer uniform. Together they were fighting off the pirates with cutlasses, their pistols dropped after the first shot. They had had no time to reload.

The tall man crossed blades with Rodan, Leela's best fighter. They struggled for purchase on each other's blades, seeking enough to disarm or cut through the other’s guard. Leela was proud of how well Rodan's arm held, how the strain barely showed on her face.

Then the tall man growled and headbutted Rodan between their crossed blades, and Rodan yelped and jumped back. The other man swiped at poor Kaska and cut his arm, letting his blood flow.

Leela had not the patience to watch any longer. She waded in, pushing her pirates aside. She threw an elbow at the tall man's eye, and he went down, clutching his face. The other man tried to hold Leela back with his sword, but she was not afeared of his metal. In a moment he was down on the ground, with Leela's knife pressed to his neck. His hat fell off, and Leela could see the retreating hair on his head, as if it too was trying to pull back from the cool threat of her knife.

"I am Leela of the Sevateem," said Leela. "And you will give me your surrender."

"I am Captain Narvin of the Lady Admiral's Navy" said the man, "and I will not." His voice was cold, and his eyes looked deep into Leela's own, but the tremor of his throat betrayed his fear.

"You will give me your surrender or you will die, Captain," said Leela.

"I will not give you my surrender," said Captain Narvin. "But I have a message for you."

\---

"And tell Brax to send another courier home, with the budget reports. We shall need more money this year, for repairs, so make sure the homefront can see that we're scraping the bottom of what they've given us," said Romana. Mr. Nighn nodded, filing it all away in that remarkable memory of his. It wasn't particularly safe to write all of her orders down, and anyway it wasn't as if Romana had time for handwriting every little thing.

"Rear Admiral Braxiatel would like to know when we are moving the fleet," said Nighn.

"Rear Admiral Braxiatel always wants to know when we are moving the fleet," said Romana. "We will wait until supplies and the main couriers have arrived. I won't have them chasing after us and losing vital time."

Nign nodded. "Yes, Admiral." It was all very agreeable. Too agreeable. Braxiatel would have argued – he didn't like being a floating immobile target. Of course Romana would have overruled him, but at least there would have been a moment of discussion.

Romana missed Brax, though she'd die before she told him. Perhaps she would put it in her will, a message to be revealed only after her last regeneration was over and done with. 'I bequest to one Irving Braxiatel, the knowledge that I, in a moment of weakness, missed him.'

"Just tell Braxiatel to keep an eye out for ships and stragglers," said Romana, rather than revealing any of these frankly embarrassing thoughts to Mr. Nighn. "We're waiting on fifteen supply ships and two couriers from mainland. After that, we can safely move on."

Nighn nodded and turned to go.

"And Captain Narvin and the pirates!" added Romana. "I should hope he's accomplished something, as long as he’s been gone.

\---

"Drinks for our guest, Kay!" said the Dread Pirate Leela, lounging in the hammock chair in her cabin. A man with a long, gray face nodded, and stepped out of the cabin.

"Who is that?" asked Narvin. "He looks very familiar."

"Kay the cabin boy," said Leela. "He is a good man, and a fine friend. But let us talk of other things. It is well that your Admiral sent you, for I would look upon the face of the woman who wants my help."

"I believe that was her reasoning also," said Narvin. "You should get along splendidly." He tried to sit a bit straighter in his own hammock chair, but only succeeded in breaking his balance and getting a little more tangled in the weave.

Narvin's ship was being repaired by his crew, Leela having reluctantly given up the prize as a requisite to being taken back to the Lady Admiral. Soon Leela would be discoursing with the leader of the Navy and receiving payment for her future services. In the meantime, it was up to Narvin to entertain the great pirate.

He wasn't sure how. All he could do was run a ship – it wasn't as if he could juggle or sing or do magic tricks.

“Where are the rest of your ships?” asked Narvin.

“It is in a bay somewhere,” said Leela, rocking comfortably in her hammock. “We shall meet with it before continuing on to your Navy.”

“What’s that? ‘It?’” Narvin tried to keep his face blank, but he suspected that a frown was creeping around the corners of his mouth. “I had thought you had many ships.”

“There have been some losses,” said Leela, still unconcerned. “The waters are not kind, during a war such as this. But one ship, more or less, will make no difference.”

The pirate had no understanding of tactics. Narvin would have taken the opportunity to teach her, but he was on her own ship, and he had been told that his manner of lecturing was somewhat hostile. He settled for sighing, instead. Leela looked at him, questioningly.

“Three ships,” said Narvin. “And this makes you a Dread Pirate?”

"It is a title handed down from long ago,” said Leela. “But let us speak no more of this. Tell me, what is your Admiral like?" Leela swung forward, her eyes eager. "Is she a great fighter?"

"I have never seen the Lady Romana fight," said Narvin. "But they say she is very formidable." He probably would witness some sort of violence, if he brought Leela and her mere two ships back with him. Obviously reports of her clout had been greatly exaggerated. But it wouldn’t do to ignore orders, whether or not the Admiral liked the outcomes. Narvin, as he so often did, resigned himself.

Leela frowned. "You have little contact with your leader."

"I have met the Admiral often enough," said Narvin, "but largely for bureaucratic matters. I have my own ship, and I serve within the fore of the fleet, commanded by the Lady Darkel."

"I understand," said Leela. "Then I shall have to discover Admiral Romana myself! We must set sail as soon as your ship is recovered!"

"Excellent," said Narvin. "We've recorded where the fleet is – we should find it easily enough." Unless they've moved, he thought. Or been attacked.

Narvin wished he had the sort of mind that could be optimistic, if only in a glass jar where he could look at it from time to time.

The drinks arrived, four mugs of grog. For a moment Narvin thought that Kay the cabin boy was going to join them, but the man handed two mugs to Narvin and two to Leela before leaving them again.

"One to drink, and one to take the taste away," explained Leela.

"But it's all grog," said Narvin.

"Once you've had two, you will no longer care about the taste," said Leela. "To your health! And the health of your Lady Admiral!"

"I think it would be healthier not to drink this," said Narvin. But he did. And it would have been.

They sailed for the fleet the very next day, while Narvin was still reeling from an awful hangover. Torvald commanded their ship, while Narvin lay down in the cabin and tried to appear professional with a damp cloth over his face.

\---

The fleet had been in the same place, more or less, for nearly a month. Supply ships had come in and gone, and there was news that the Phaidon fleet was starting to move for Gallifrey.

Romana gritted her teeth, and called a meeting of the Admirals.

"We should move immediately," said Brax, predictably. "We should be creating a blockade, or perhaps attempting a rear attack on the Phaidon fleet. This was a good position for readiness, but now is the time for action."

"But we have little idea of what action to take," argued Romana. "The fishermen have been unbearably vague about what the Phaidons are actually doing.”

“A common fault of fishermen,” said Braxiatel. “They’re not intelligence operatives, for all that we rely on them.”

“They can’t help but see what’s happening in their own waters,” said Romana. “And neither they nor anyone else has giving me clear confirmation that Phaidon is attacking Gallifrey directly. If we create a blockade in Gallifreyan waters we will leave our outposts and colonies completely unguarded."

"Better that than leave our homeland to be razed," said Brax.

They were not usually so at loggerheads. Romana thought that it would not have come to this, if she had heeded any of Braxiatel's little hints about moving the fleet earlier. He grew tetchy whenever the fleet was in one place for overlong – the Phaidons had a tendency to appear suddenly when one least expected them, and the chance of them turning up grew the longer one remained in the same general area. The Gallifreyan fleet had suffered from several near-disastrous ambushes during the early years of the war.

Still. Romana was loath to move when she had nowhere to go to.

"Admiral," said Brax, breaking the silence, "I understand your hesitancy. But I can do nothing but advise you to the best of my ability."

"Of course, Rear Admiral," said Romana. She turned her eyes to the other participant in this conversation, the woman who had been sitting and smiling, watching two habitual allies fight amongst themselves. "And you, Vice Admiral Darkel? I suppose you agree with Brax."

"Hardly," said Darkel. She straightened a little in her chair, out of the pleased slouch she had been achieving. "I can see no reason for us to move without any intelligence."

"My point exactly," said Romana. This was a surprise. Darkel disagreed with Romana ten times out of ten, but apparently this was time number eleven.

"Anyway, we cannot simply leave our lost ships with no way to find us," said Darkel. "What about the important missions that are due to return? The pirate queen, for example."

"Ah," said Romana. Darkel wasn't meant to know about that plan. She glanced at Brax, but he was frowning, uncertain.

Romana decided that if Darkel wanted something, it was probably for the wrong reasons.

"We'll move to blockade," said Romana. She held up a hand against Braxiatel's support, Darkel's questioning outrage. "But only with two-thirds of the fleet. Brax, I want you and the rear fleet to remain here and direct any stragglers or returning missions to a rendezvous point. If you receive intelligence about an attack on any of the outposts, you must move immediately to defend. Understood?"

"Perfectly," said Brax.

Romana looked at Darkel, waiting for the other woman to make some protest about dividing the fleet. It would be warranted, for all that Romana could think of no other solution. The Gallifreyan fleet was not so large that it could be separated without difficulty and potential weakness. But Darkel just nodded.

"I shall inform my ships at once," she said.

"Good," said Romana. "I shall send Mr. Nighn with the formal orders and designated rendezvous points. Dismissed."

\---

Rear-Admiral Braxiatel was left behind with his third of the fleet. It was something he was used to, as part of his function as the commander of the rear. He tried not to view it as some sort of trite metaphor.

The rest of the fleet faded into the distance, headed for the Gallifreyan Channel. Braxiatel did not watch them disappear behind the horizon, because the horizon was very far away and Braxiatel had a long list of things to do with his time that were not pointlessly sentimental.

He did, however, wave a bit.

There were thirty ships under Braxiatel's command. He could and had to be able to name every captain, have them over to dinner, and make sure they were treating their crews properly. Braxiatel blessed the fact that this was no labor – he liked his captains, by and large, and they were remarkably easy to get along with. This had not always been the case. Once, when Braxiatel was still a commodore, he had been placed in command of a squadron of the Merchant Marine, charged with shepherding the ships from port to port. Unfortunately, Braxiatel’s own lamentable brother had been captain of a rather suspect brig within the company, and made the journey a trial, from the time he said hello, until he abruptly abandoned his ship and his command in a dinghy, accompanied by a trio of young stowaways.

Happily, the lamentable brother had never been retrieved, and could never be placed under Braxiatel's command again. Braxiatel’s dinners, thus, were calm and luxurious, without any cricket balls being thrown in the punch or adorable urchins being revealed from where they had been hiding under the tablecloth. The most exciting dinner featured a rousing game of whist.

For a week, Braxiatel idled. Now and then he responded to calls for help from outposts and colonies, as per his orders. He sent a ship or two, and slowly his third of a fleet dwindled to fifteen ships. It was still a large company, more than great enough to withstand any lone Phaidon ships that might stumble on Braxiatel's command.

But it was only barely enough to withstand a squadron of pirate vessels, when they suddenly appeared over the horizon.

How pleasing, then, that they wouldn't have to. Braxiatel imagined that Captain Narvin had finally returned with the Dread Pirate Leela in tow.

He hadn’t thought she had _quite_ so many ships.

\---

The trip back was briefer than the long, meandering search for the pirate vessels, though it was not free from trouble. A detour to locate Leela’s other ship took longer than Narvin would have liked, solely because of odd crosswinds. Narvin's ship had to be repaired as they went, and the pirate ship began discovering minor damage from the short-lived battle, which had to be similarly dealt with. Narvin was pleased with his crew's abilities at war, but he was more and annoyed at the time and timber needed to repair the broken boards and leaks from the cannon fire.

At least the wind was on their side. Narvin jammed his hat a little tighter on his head as he gazed out to sea.

If he looked sideways, he could see Leela on the deck of her own ship, arguing and laughing with her pirates. Narvin did not look sideways.

"Quite a woman, isn't she," said Torvald. He moved too quietly. Narvin didn't jump, but only because he disguised his start with the swaying of the boards.

"She and the Admiral will do well together," said Narvin. "Either that, or start another war."

"We're at war with all of the temporal powers," said Torvald. "How much worse can it get?"

"Please," said Narvin. The wind caught at his hat again and he gave up and took it off, tucking it under his arm. "Do you want a list?"

Leela was demonstrating something to Kay the cabin boy, a knife move that somehow turned into a dance. Narvin couldn't see their faces from this far away, but he could imagine them easily – Leela's pleased grin and Kay's mechanical neutrality. As far as Narvin was concerned, involving pirates was already making things worse.

Leela must have caught him looking because she waved, shouting something across the divide between the ships.

"I can't hear you!" shouted Narvin. "Use the flags! Semaphore!"

Leela continued to wave, joined by the incomprehensible shouts of the rest of her crew.

"Do you even know semaphore?" muttered Narvin. "Or do you communicate with other ships with a pair of barrels and a string hooked between?"

"I think they're trying to tell us about that, sir," said Torvald, pointing over Narvin's shoulder. There was a jumble of ships there, just barely visible over the horizon.

"Oh," said Narvin. "The fleet. Well, we knew we were getting close."

"No," said Torvald, "no, it's the other ships."

Along the horizon were ten ships, moving fast. They'd meet the fleet in three hours at the outside.

"Spyglass," said Narvin, holding out a hand. Torvald gave him the spyglass without comment, and Narvin held it to his eye. He bit the inside of his cheek as he spotted the black flags.

Leela's ship was leaning closer or she was screaming louder, because Narvin could just catch her words over the sound of the surf.

_"-rates! More pirates!"_

"I can see that," snapped Narvin, waving a hand at Leela. "But we're five hours out, and what can we do?"

He had to repeat himself a few times, so that Leela could hear, and every time Narvin said it, he liked it less.

\---

Three hours to prepare for battle might seem like a long time, but it is significantly less than ample when you are expecting the pirates to be friendly. Braxiatel told the crews to ready the guns, of course, just in case, but inwardly he was planning interviews with the Dread Pirate Leela and debriefings with Captain Narvin.

The first warning sign came when Braxiatel realized that every one of the ten incoming ships was bedecked with a black flag. Captain Narvin's ship did not to appear to be amongst them, no matter how carefully Braxiatel searched with his glass.

"They're preparing to pass, sir," said Lieutenant Hallan. "Shall we let them?"

"Keep the guns on them," said Braxiatel, still uncertain.

The second warning sign came when a cannonball hit the waves before the farthest ship in Braxiatel's squadron, and then Braxiatel was screaming for the crew to haul up the order to open fire and everything was sparks and gunpowder and blood. Two warning signs was two too many, and he should have acted earlier-

A piece of shrapnel hit Braxiatel in the leg, and he continued barking orders from the deck, his weakening words relayed by Hallan.

The pirates sailed through, in the end, limping along, down two ships, but quickly pulling out of range. Braxiatel saw a laughing little man with an overblown and gaudy costume, waving from the deck of the largest ship, and then the battle was over and Braxiatel was being dragged to surgery.

\---

Mephistopheles Arkadian, also known as Devilbeard, was beside himself with glee. One section of the Gallifreyan fleet down, two more to go. And then he could hold an entire empire to ransom. He smiled as he thought of it. He would be paid tribute, all the money and arms that he could hope for. Perhaps he might even retire, in a palace of his very own! A working retirement, of course. Arkadian loved his job.

"We lost two," said a pirate, looking back at the slowly sinking casualties. "Boss?"

"Never mind them," said Arkadian. "I'm sure Rear Admiral Braxiatel will follow us, whether or not he has prisoners."

"Yer," said the pirate (Arkadian never bothered to learn their names, they tended to die). "But if we lost two on a quick run through a third of the fleet, what are we going to do when we get to the rest?"

"Don't worry," said Arkadian. "I have friends in interesting places. How do you think I knew where the fleet was?"

The pirate shrugged. "Strategical thinking?"

"Really," said Arkadian. He looked back at the Navy ships, the squadron floundering around, still trying to decide whether to follow Arkadian at once, or regroup and recover. Trying to find its rear with both hands, perhaps? Arkadian smiled. "No, my man, no. Why think, when you can use your ill-gotten intelligence?"

\---

Leela watched the battle from her ship, safe and seething. The ships of the Navy put up a good fight, but they let the attackers escape. Leela could only think that they might have captured the other pirates, had she and Narvin been there.

But you could not hurry the wind, nor the sea. Leela's company met the fleet a full hour after the battle was over. Leela and Kay climbed down into the ship's dinghy, and set off for the flagship.

When they arrived, Narvin's own dinghy was already alongside. Leela climbed the rope ladder into the ship, avoiding broken spars and splinters. Most of the fire had concentrated on this poor ship – perhaps the enemy had wished to humble the greatest vessel in this fleet. Leela would not put it past him.

"Where is your captain?" asked Leela. “I am expected.” A dozen eyes turned toward her, and a woman pointed into the depths of the ship before turning back to her work, attempting to swab blood up off the decks. A tall man stood up from his seat on a crate, and gestured at Leela and Kay to follow him. He had his hand on his cutlass, but Leela did not blame him – she was a stranger to this crew.

Leela descended. The lower decks were full of screams and the stench of pain – sweat, blood, and alcohol. Leela's nose wrinkled, and her ears would have done the same, had they that ability.

Narvin's voice rose above the cries, as the tall man guided Leela and Kay closer.

"-repairs, and consider our-"

"No," interrupted another voice. It was taut and tight with anger. Or pain, or both. It was difficult to tell. "No, we need to get after them. Relay the order, damn you."  
"We don't need to hunt pirates," said Narvin. "I've got your pirates, tracked your savages down for you. Repairs, and regroup with the rest of the fleet, that's my advice."

"I believe I would recall if I had asked for it," said the new voice. Leela was around the corner, now, and she could see who it belonged to. A man was lying in the middle of the surgery, arguing with Narvin. His rich jacket was torn to pieces, and his hat was lost, but it was obvious that this was the commander. It was clear in the set of his shoulders, and the melting wax in his moustache. Also, noted Leela, in the way that Narvin was grimacing at him, but did not dare to walk away.

Leela stepped between beds until she could look the commander in the eye.

"I am the Dread Pirate Leela," she said. "I wish we could have been here hours ago."

"So do I," said the man. He waved Leela’s tall guide away before turning back to look at her. "Rear Admiral Braxiatel, at your service. I'm afraid you've missed Admiral Romanadvoratrelundar."

"For now," said Leela. "But if we follow those ships, we may see her soon."

"Why?" said Narvin. "The fleet's on blockade, near Gallifreyan waters."

"But that is where the ships are going," said Leela.

There was a silence. At least, the four of them were silent. A surgery was never especially quiet, not after a battle.

"No pirate would head straight for a fleet," said Narvin. "It would be the height of foolishness, even for them."

"Those were Devilbeard's ships," said Leela. "And he is no fool. But that is where he is going. I can feel it, in my bones, in the whites of my eyes. The Lady Romana needs our help."

"Instinct," scoffed Narvin. "Our time would be better spent chasing fairies."

"What heading did the fleet take?" asked Kay.

Braxiatel started, and then suppressed a wince. "Mr. Nighn? I thought you were with Romana."

"I am not Mr. Nighn," said Kay. His expression remained neutral, so Leela made a puzzled face for him. "The heading?" repeated Kay.

"Forty degrees," said Braxiatel.

"The enemy ships were heading 39 comma eight degrees," said Kay. "This was not in the best favor of the wind. They are chasing the fleet."

"Logical," said Braxiatel. "You see, Captain Narvin? We must get after them."

"Surely the fleet can take care of itself," said Narvin. "My own ship is not repaired, and-" he would have argued more, thought Leela, argued until the walls of time crumbled down and all was infinite, but the surgeon swept in and pressed at Braxiatel's leg.

Braxiatel whined, and they all pretended not to hear it, to grant him that much pride. Except, of course, the surgeon.

"Hurts, does it?" asked the surgeon.

"Immensely," said Braxiatel. "But I’ve always thought that amputation was rarely the answer-"

"I think you might keep it or a while yet," said the other man. He began to cut at Braxiatel's trousers. "But I have to get the shrapnel out. Whiskey?"

"Please," said Braxiatel. He took the bottle with shaking hands.

"Perhaps we should go," said Narvin. His lips were white and pinched – Leela suspected that he was not fond of blood.

"A moment longer of your time, if you will," said Braxiatel. His eyes had grown wider, and he looked steadily at Leela, away from the surgeon and his leg. "You said Devilbeard, Lady Leela. Do you know the captain of that force?"

"Stories only," allowed Leela. "Captain Arkadian. He is not a vicious man, only a greedy one. While I and my crew seek freedom, he seeks gold."

"You've taken more and enough gold," said Narvin. His eyes were trained on the ceiling, now, and Leela smiled at him.

"If I have, it was to further freedom," she said. "Arkadian has no desire beyond the gold, and the fame that it brings. His sail is a skull with top hat – that is how I recognized him."

"Devilbeard," said Braxiatel.

"I believe that he has a strange set of facial hair," said Leela. "As if to imitate the devil himself. But, truly, I hear tell that it is an ugly moustache. Yours is much better."

Braxiatel laughed, the sound cut off with a wince when Elbon patted the new bandage on his leg.

"I'll check it this evening for infection," said Elbon. "Now up, out, I need the space."

Narvin lent Braxiatel his arm, and together the four of them walked toward his cabin.

"A day to patch up," said Braxiatel. "And then after this Devilbeard. A greedy man would not waste his life or his ships needlessly. He must have some plan."

"Yes, Rear Admiral," said Narvin, though he rolled his eyes.

\---

Blockading was an excruciatingly boring task. As Romana had learned it, years ago when she was a midshipman, you strung your ships out, and then you waited to see if anybody tried to get through. A distant blockade was doubly boring, because you couldn't even see the coast of the land you were trying to defend. The Gallifreyan Navy was still surrounded by sea, and they could only hope that the situation did not become suddenly exciting.

Romana hoped, secretly, that the situation did become suddenly exciting. It did not.

Romana would hole up with a good book and half a dozen reports from captured fishermen, if it weren't for Darkel and her insistence on proper dinners at the flagship. A week of boring, dreadful dinners. They'd already used up whatever polite conversation they ever had.

"The weather," suggested Romana, toying with the salt pork that has been disguised as edible, "is exceptionally fine."

"Oh, yes," said Darkel. She was distracted, as if she were waiting for something. Dessert and an excuse to leave, probably. Romana stifled a yawn, and wondered if she could get away with reading at the table.

When the shouts came from up top, it was almost a welcome distraction.

"What the hell is it?" said Romana, as she stormed up onto deck.

"Pirates," said Darkel, close on her heels.

"Why didn't we spot them earlier?" fumed Romana. She could see them now, eight black sails, and the ships they belonged to, almost among her own fleet. "Ready guns!"

"I'd reconsider that order," said Darkel. She always sounded sly and smug, but now it was as if she'd tapped into some new realm of sly smugness, a world where the streams ran with treacle and poisoned honey. Romana turned, feeling pinned to the deck.

"Whyever would I do that?" she asked.

"Captain Arkadian is on my side," said Darkel. "Along with half of your remaining fleet. Do you think you can fight us all?"

Romana was silent for a long moment, doing math in her head. Eight new ships, and a mutinous vanguard. It was easy to do the sums, really, but every time she got a result she didn't like, she had to check it and see if it changed.

"We'll go down fighting, then," she said, at last. "Raise the order to fire!"

No one moved.

"Oh, I forgot," said Darkel, traitorous Darkel, indecent Darkel. "Your crew is loyal to me as well. You should have never let me take charge of staffing the flagship crew."

"You," said Romana. "You."

"Yes?" Darkel smiled, waiting, and Romana found her feet. She took a step closer, and another.

"You are courting the noose," she said. "I am the highest authority in these waters, in your career, and I will not be thrown aside. Who are you working for?" Romana's finger jabbed out, pointing up into Darkel's face. "The Phaidons? Will you truly betray your empire for _them_?"

"Heavens, no," said Darkel. "I'm working for _me_."

Romana slowly lowered her finger. "Crew!" she shouted. "Citizens of Gallifrey! Do not let this megalomaniacal, profiteering, shadow of a seaman use you like this. We can still fight!"

"Stop embarrassing yourself," said Darkel. "Quietly, please, before you give us all a headache."

It was at that moment that Mr. Nighn leapt out of the unsympathetic masses, his sword drawn and his expressionless face somehow contriving to snarl.

"You see?" said Romana, in triumph. "I have supporters, even now!"

"He is one man," said Darkel. She waved a few crew members forward, each of them drawing their own swords.

"But his strength is the strength of ten, because he is righteous!" said Romana.

"Inaccurate, Lady Admiral," said Nighn. "My strength is only one comma three times the average strength on the crew."

"Shut up, Mr. Nighn," said Romana.

He was quickly subdued, of course, along with the still-kicking-and-monologing Romana, but at least it took five people each.

Being in the brig, Romana soon learned, was even duller than blockading.

\---

The rear fleet ran toward the rendezvous point at the blockade. A day to make most of the ships seaworthy had cost them, but they would still be there in ample time, or so Narvin thought.

"Surely Admiral Romana can deal with a few pirates," he told Torvald.

"Of course," said Torvald. "But I'd be more worried about what else she'll have to deal with. Vice Admiral Darkel-"

"Vice Admiral Darkel is our direct commanding officer," said Narvin. "Show some loyalty."

"I'll show you mine if she shows me hers," said Torvald. "How do you think this pirate knew where to go?"

Narvin shook his head. Darkel did enjoy naval intrigue and had been known to cackle evilly from time to time, but this was _Gallifrey_ they were talking about. Gallifrey was beyond betrayal.

"It's probably the Phaidons," said Narvin. "We were going to use pirates against them."

"And turn-about is fair play," said Torvald. "I'm sure you're right."

Narvin didn't like it when Torvald humored him. He went back to his cabin, and stewed with doubting.

When he came back up to check on the evening watch, Rear-Admiral Braxiatel's flags were still reading full speed ahead, and they were two days away from the rendezvous.

\---

Five days was far too long to be in the brig.

"I can't believe this," said Romana. She pushed sullenly at the crust of bread they had given her to break her teeth on. "Why have we not been rescued? How could so many of my people go over to Darkel?"

"That conclusion is certainly unlikely," agreed Nighn. His own bread lay untouched, along with his cup of water. "The cumulative probability of every crewperson converting to Darkel is six comma five five percent."

Romana thought about that. "What a small number."

"A more likely possibility," said Nighn, "is that Darkel has staffed the flagship with her most loyal supporters."

"Then the other ships might still be loyal to me," said Romana.

"They may even be unaware that you have been captured," said Nighn. "It would be very simple for Darkel to send out orders in your name."

Romana mulled this, absently chewing on the bread. "Do you think we could take over this ship?"

"Insufficient data," said Nighn.

"Do you think we could get a boat to one of the other ships, then?" Romana got up and peered at the lock on the barred ceiling.

"If a sympathetic crewperson is found, probability of success is thirty-five comma four percent," said Nighn.

"Good," said Romana. "Hello! Would anyone like to let us out of here?"

Unsurprisingly, this did not work. It did, however, succeed in attracting a lot of attention. Eventually, some of that attention would have to be friendly, just from the power of large sample size.

Darkel came and laughed at them, accusing Romana of dramatics. She didn’t bother to post an increased guard. Clearly she was confident enough in the loyalty of the crew she had inflicted upon the flagship. But loyalty, thought Romana, with the sting of fresh experience, was rarely perfect.

The crowd around the brig began to dissipate, after Darkel left. Eventually, only one remained, a marine who was trying to look very hard as if he wasn’t loitering. Romana caught his eye and beckoned.

\---

Braxiatel sat on a barrel, resting his leg. He was lucky enough to be free of infection, but the wound still ached, and stung when he put weight on it. What he needed was a month of rest and recovery, lest he push himself until his leg actually fell off.

Instead, he was rushing to Romana's side. Typical.

Captain Narvin was probably right, and Romana would be fine. But if Braxiatel could make the winds blow faster, he would put all his might to doing so.

Dawn was breaking over the horizon of the sea, illuminating the dark waves with strands of red-orange fire. Braxiatel could almost imagine the blockade, strung out against the sky, though he knew they were more than a day's sail away.

\---

Marine Captain Henzil turned out to be sufficiently unsure of Darkel's right to command. That night he broke the lock and turned his back, allowing Romana and Nighn to steal out onto the deck.

Romana had created the tables for the night watch. Not personally, perhaps, but se had reviewed them after Mr. Nighn had finished writing them. Apparently, Darkel hadn’t altered the tables in the slightest. It was the sort of shoddy administration Romana expected from her, and it made it easy to avoid patrols. They were out and into a dinghy before anyone was the wiser. Romana cast off from the flagship, and Nighn rowed for the nearest ship.

"Ahoy!" screamed Romana, when they got there. "Anyone awake?"

Dawn was bleeding out over the sea, and the man who looked down at them was rubbing his eyes.

"Admiral Romana?"

"The very same," said Romana. "Tell me, man, are you loyal to your empire?"

The man thought about it. "Is that a trick question?"

"Oh, just forget it," said Romana. "Lower the ladder and get your captain, there's a good chap."

Captain Maxil was a rather stiff and military man, even for the Navy, but he seemed surprised by news of Darkel's coup. Romana took this as a good sign.

"We need to move in at once," she said. "Can you signal the other ships to surround the flagship?"

"I could," said Maxil, "but I imagine they'd ignore me. Orders to attack the flagship? On whose authority?"

"Mine," said Romana. "Put up a flag to that effect."

"They shan't believe me," said Maxil. His curls bounced as he shook his head. "I shouldn't, if I hadn't spoken with you personally."

“You saw the pirate ships,” said Romana. “Does everything seem fine in this fleet?”

“Everyone knows that you sent for a pirate to do a privateering job,” said Maxil. “I had it from a commodore, who had it from Vice-Admiral Darkel herself…” he trailed off, considering what he was saying. Romana groaned and rubbed at her forehead.

"Suggestion," said Nighn. "We must send envoys to each of the ships, to tell them what has happened."

"Yes, good," said Romana. She stopped rubbing her forehead, lest she wear all her skin away. "Maxil, how many boats do you have?"

"Four," said Maxil. "Five, with your boat. I can lend you ten people to crew them, I think, and weapons enough, in case of problems."

"I'll take one. Send your lieutenants on three of them. Mr. Nighn, you take the fifth boat. You are hereby promoted to Acting Lieutenant – the advantages of rank are needed here, I think." Romana looked between the two men. "Six orders to attack will carry more weight than one, don't you think?"

Maxil and Nighn just shrugged, but Romana knew in her hearts that it was a good idea. She carried that conviction into the boat and out onto the sea, and she only lost a little of it when the first ship they boarded was full of pirates. She should have checked the sail before hailing, really.

"Hello," said a little round man with a truly awful beard. "Mephistopheles Arkadian, at your service."

"I doubt it," said Romana.

\---

Leela watched as the orderly blockade they had first seen on the horizon slowly became a disordered battle.

It was even odds. The blockade was made of sixty ships or more, but that was covering the better part of this area. Close to the flagship were a mere five ships, with four more slowly turning in from the rest of the blockade. The flagship was firing at them, along with the pirate ships. Nine against nine.

Leela's company had more than thirty ships.

"Can we not go faster?" she snapped at no one. "We must lend aid!"

"Current technology does not allow for motion enhancement beyond wind speed," said Kay.

Leela drew her cutlass and paced the deck with it. After ten minutes, she put it back away and sat down on the deck instead. It would not do to tire herself out before the battle.

"Estimated time of arrival, fifteen minutes," said Kay, after what seemed to Leela to be an age.

"Good. We will not miss this battle, then." One of the Naval vessels was foundering, and one of the pirate ships was sinking as they spoke. But the largest pirate ship was hanging back from the battle, doing nothing to help its fellows.

"Take us there," said Leela, pointing at the quiet ship. "I would see what Devilbeard is up to."

\---

"Well, well, well," said Arkadian. He paced closer to Romana. "The Lady Admiral."  
Cannon fire sounded behind them, the creak of ships as they tried to maneuver into better position.

"You're missing the battle," observed Romana. She backed slowly away from Arkadian, back toward the rail.

"The battle." Arkadian waved a hand, dismissive. "If Darkel wins without me, so much the better. If she loses, it will be a shame. But I," he followed Romana, forward until she was pressed back against the rail, "I have a hostage, now."

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement," said Romana, laying a hand on the lapel of Arkadian's coat. He smiled at her, and then the smile froze as she fisted her hand and hauled him up and over the rail, and into the water.

"You idi-" he screamed, and the rest was burbling and splashes.

"That's sorted," said Romana, dusting her hands. "Now, pirates, I should like you to-"

The pirates drew their swords.

"I don't think that was a good idea, Lady Admiral," murmured one of her crewpersons. Romana glanced at the two of them, and then back at the horde of pirates.

"Nonsense," she said. "Listen, you pirates, you shall follow my orders, or be strung from the nearest yardarm!"

This had little effect. What had more effect was the ship crashing into their side.

"Lady Admiral!" A woman leapt from the new ship, onto the deck. She was wearing a leather tunic and a long burgundy red greatcoat. More importantly, she was holding a cutlass and was followed by fifteen more fighters.

"You're not in the Navy," said Romana. She flattered herself that she would have noticed.

"I am the Dread Pirate Leela!" said the woman. "And I am here to rescue you from the evil Devilbeard!"

"You mean Arkadian?" said Romana. "He's down in the water somewhere. I've already rescued myself."

Leela glanced down at the water, brow furrowing as she considered Arkadian's splashing. Arkadian's pirates took this as cue to advance a step, their own cutlasses wavering a little.

"Then I shall rescue you from his crew!" announced Leela. "Come on, run them through!"

The two crews clashed, and the melee covered the deck in fighting. Romana drew her own sword, fending off two attackers before a wild parry sent her opponent into a rail and her sword off the side. Then she used her pistol, but it wasn’t as if she could reload when there were pirates all over the place. Finally, in desperation, she snatched a bucket from the deck and used it to ward off anyone who came too close.

Through the fighting, Romana caught glimpses of Leela, teeth bared in a fierce grin, sword cutting down any who dared challenge her. And with her, fighting back to back, was a gray-faced man with textbook-perfect form.

"What in blazes is Nighn doing here?" asked Romana, before bashing one of Arkadian's men over the head with her bucket.

\---

A few of the pirate ships were attempting to escape the battle. Unfortunately for them, the wind was pushing them toward Braxiatel's ship. Braxiatel ordered his ship to portside tack, presenting the broadside.

"Fire!" he shouted, and the lieutenants took up the call.

The pirate ship turned in the water, desperately trying to present its own broadside, but one of the Navy ships was catching up. Braxiatel could see them preparing to board.

"Hold," he said. There was no sense in shooting the timbers out from under your own people. Braxiatel turned his attention to one of the other incoming pirate ships instead.

An hour later, all of the pirate ships in the immediate area were subdued, and someone was raising a Gallifreyan flag on the first ship Braxiatel had engaged. They were drifting close to one another, and Braxiatel waved at a man he recognized on the other deck.

"My compliments, Midshipman Nighn," he shouted. He'd expected the wind to tear away his words, but the man nodded, so he must have heard.

"Acting Lieutenant Nighn," corrected Nighn, his voice eerily clear across the distance. "Thank you, sir."

\---

Narvin's ship was only a small sloop, and its ten guns couldn't hold up to the greater capabilities of the larger ships around it. But its maneuverability allowed it to slide through the battle, until it was heaving-to near the flagship.

"Are you sure you want to do this, sir?" asked Torvald.

Narvin glared at him. "Prepare to board."

The flagship was listing from cannon-fire and collusions, and Narvin and the rest of the boarding party move carefully, avoiding the blood and broken spars. The living crew that they met quickly backed away when Narvin pointed his pistol.

"Where is Vice Admiral Darkel?" he demanded.

"In her cabin," said a marine. Narvin's pistol swung toward him, but he held his hands up, showing no weapon. "I'm Captain Henzil. I'll take you there-"

"I know where it is," snapped Narvin, and pushed his way past, leaving the rest of the boarding party to deal with taking prisoners.

When Narvin pushed the cabin door open, Darkel was crouched over her desk, writing something. She didn't look up as he approached.

"Ah, Captain Narvin," she said. "You didn't knock."

"I'm boarding your ship," said Narvin. "Now is hardly the time to insist on politeness."

"I'm still your commander," said Darkel. She finally unbent to look at him, ink-stained fingers tapping her cheek.

"After this?" Narvin waved his free hand, the gesture encompassing the entire situation. "You'd be lucky to get off with a dishonorable discharge."

"It was all for the empire," said Darkel. She stood up, pacing toward Narvin. "Romana's unorthodox tactics would have lost us the war. Privateers? Involving barbarians? No one I spoke to thought that was a very _sound_ idea."

"I told you that in confidence," said Narvin. He’d thought it was his duty to tell his commander why he was leaving the fleet.

“And well that you did!” said Darkel. “What might have happened, if you hadn’t?”

“And what about Devilbeard?” asked Narvin. His teeth felt sore, and he realized he’d been grinding them as Darkel spoke. “You’re a hypocrite, Darkel.”

"He is a tool, only," said Darkel. She shrugged, smiling. "Do you think I would have given him anything?"

"No," said Narvin. "No, I wouldn't expect you to fulfill any sort of agreement."

"With me as its Admiral, the Navy could have won the war in a hearts' beat," said Darkel. "We still have a chance. Hide me away in your ship, claim I drowned. I can recover, regain my potential-"

Narvin raised his pistol, filling the scant space between Darkel and himself. She frowned, uncertain. Narvin noticed, dimly, that his hand was shaking.

"Sir?" asked Torvald, surprisingly close. Narvin had thought the boarding party was still searching the rest of the ship.

"Vice Admiral Darkel," said Narvin. "You have committed high treason and mutiny against the Lady Admiral and the empire she serves. I would have your surrender, now."

Darkel handed over her sword with bad grace, but Narvin had expected nothing more. He was relieved that she hadn't tried to run him through with it – at this moment, he wasn't sure what he would have done in response.

\---

After all of the excitement, dinner with the Lady Admiral and her officers was somewhat of a letdown. Leela picked at bread and heavy stew, and thought about how well Romana's hair framed her face. They were still in Arkadian's ship, as the flagship was too damaged to suit the Admiral.

"Anyway, I like it here," said Romana, looking around the richly furnished main cabin in which they were supping. "Perhaps I should be a pirate queen, rather than an Admiral. It seems far more profitable."

"We could run away together," suggested Leela. She was, she thought, only partly joking. She had much admired the way Romana had bucketed a man into unconsciousness while never losing her calm.

Romana smiled at Leela, and perhaps she too was truly thinking of it.

"I would be happy to command the fleet, if you are indisposed by piracy," said Braxiatel, smiling in turn.

"You, run the Navy?" Romana chuckled, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine _that_ , Brax.” Braxiatel's smile became somewhat strained.

Narvin was cutting another piece of bread, more involved in his food than the conversation. But he kept sneaking glances at Kay and Nighn, who were speaking to each other uncommonly fast. Half of the words they said sounded nothing like speech at all, but rather beeps and whirring. Leela tilted her head, considering.

Romana and Braxiatel insisted that Kay and Nighn were identical, but Leela could see clear differences between them. Kay was older and somewhat more battered – the difficulties of his life were mapped in scars and calluses. Nighn was a bit shinier, like all of these naval officers, his youth picked out in brass buttons and spit-shined boots.

But perhaps they were long-lost brothers, thought Leela. That would be a good tale to tell.

"So," said Romana. "Perhaps we can finally discuss the business that brought you here, Leela." She took a piece of paper from her pouch, and passed it to Leela. "This is a letter of marque, authorizing you to act in the name of Gallifrey-"

Romana continued to speak, as Leela looked at the paper and then at the others surrounding the table. Braxiatel was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed as he nodded along to Romana's words. Narvin was leaning forward, attention finally caught by policy and the war. Kay and Nighn were still babbling at each other in their odd shared language. And there was Romana, eyes shining as she outlined her plan.

Leela could not help but laugh in delight.

"What's so funny about prize crew procedure?" asked Romana, confused.

"Nothing," said Leela. "It is only- oh, I think this is the beginning of a great adventure."

Narvin rolled his eyes, and Braxiatel smiled with only a little sincerity. But Romana grinned, and it was as broad a smile as Leela's own.

"Yes," said Romana. "Yes, I think you're right."


End file.
